


Torments and Demons

by maqcy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alienation, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Death, Demons, F/M, Fear, Fighting, Gen, Hurt, Imprisonment, M/M, PTSD, Speciesism, Swords, War, War camp, warriors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6527035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The demons' numbers are falling, and, with each battle they lose against the Torments, they come closer to losing the war. Taken prisoner by a soldier by the name of Hivair, an outcast amongst his own kind, this demon struggles to determine what it is, exactly, that Hivair wants him for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capture

**Author's Note:**

> *This is an original work, belonging to me. If you want to use the characters please message me*

As Hivair moved forwards, his coat tails streaming behind him, the glimmer of a demon’s hair kept catching his attention. Hivair shoved his blades through a demon soldier’s throat and looked over to where the demon was similarly dispatching one of Hivair’s own Torments. Their gazes caught for a moment and Hivair watched the tall warrior, his pale violet hair waist-length and almost luminous against his bare chest, take a step towards him.

Hivair kept his face blank, watching. The violet-haired demon almost took his comrade’s head when one of his own kind grabbed his arm, shaking his arm free of the other male’s hold with a snarl. The other demon quailed under the glare of those red eyes, scarlet as hawthorn berries under the heavy black kohl the demons painted their faces with, but he remained persistent, desperately trying to talk with the demon.

Hivair heard a roar behind him and spun around, narrowly avoiding a towering demon’s swinging axe. The demon bellowed when it missed and came at him again. Hivair barely reacted in time, managing to sloppily deflect the axe, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder as metal met metal and their blades screeched. Hivair dodged the next blow and then, as the demon’s axe went back like a clockwork toy winding itself up, Hivair darted forwards and stabbed him in the thigh. The demon cried out in pain and fury, running towards him blindly before impaling himself on Hivair’s second blade. Shocked black eyes stared at him before Hivair dragged his long-knife free and kicked the demon in the chest. He glanced over his shoulder, bloody blades held in bloody hands, but the pale-haired demon was gone.

The Torments kept moving forwards around him, surging to chase the retreating demons and Hivair moved with his kind, scanning the backs of the demons in front of him as they were jumped on, stabbed and kicked to the mud, but Hivair couldn’t see the one he was looking for.

The demons were scattering, running for their lives, through some still held their ground in small, defensive groups as Hivair and his band of Torments closed in. Hivair shook his head as the remaining demons hunkered down to face their deaths; this battle had been far too easy. The demons seemed to be running out of soldiers.

Hivair started violently as a fallen demon grabbed his ankle, trying to drag him down, sink its teeth into his leg like an animal. He thrust the steel blade viciously through the demon’s eye and its hand fell away as it slumped back. Hivair looked up, and strode forward, watching the soldiers part around him, drunk though they were on killing, still striving to get to the few demons left alive. Hivair caught a flash of pale hair through the masses of dark armour and he moved more purposefully as he made his way to the inner circle. The remaining demons had formed a ring, their swords turned out to face Hivair and the other Torments with a half dozen severely wounded huddled in the middle.

The violet-haired warrior was part of the circle, the only one daring to dart forwards and strike out at the Torments pressing in on them.

Hivair purposefully moved right to the front before opening his mouth wide and emitting the Torment’s short, cutting victory cry. Eyes turned to him, Torments and demons alike, and his comrades quickly took up the call until the mud lands was thick with it. The pale demon stared at Hivair, shifting side to side with his outstretched sword black with Torment blood.

The calls fell away and only the demons’ low growls broke the quiet.

Hivair nodded to a heavy-set Torment coming out of the crowd, blood caked onto the left side of his face from a wound at his hairline. The Torment soldier stepped forwards, watching the pale-haired warrior with narrowed eyes, already identifying him as the most dangerous, just as Hivair had. His tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He turned to a shorter man standing to his right with a nod,

“Alright, men, lets finish this up. Cleanly.” The shorter Torment barked. Hivair watched the demons tense, their eyes moving from Hivair to his superior to the Torment giving orders.

Hivair had his own dazer but he kept his fingers curled around the slick handles of his blades, watching the pale demon carefully. He saw the men take out their dazers without taking his eyes of the demon and he narrowed his eyes as the demon’s eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows drawing together just slightly as his jaw tightened, his tired eyes following the movement of the Torment soldiers with rising panic.

The demon’s arm twitched almost imperceptibly and Hivair’s weapon trembled in anticipation. Opening his mouth, the demon growled a short, rough order to his soldiers before his face softened slightly and he spoke in a quieter undertone. Words of encouragement. Hivair watched the demons gather themselves and he stepped forwards smoothly, not hurrying but quickly enough that the demon found Hivair’s one blade tip under his jaw, against the naked skin of his neck, and the other against the inside of his thigh, where an artery lay just below the surface. The demon’s lips had been parted to give his soldiers their last order, but the touch of cold steel halted him and the Torment stood behind Hivair gave his order first. Each dazer spat out a cold-seeking electrified dart, which moved around Hivair to find their marks, sending the demons into spasms that left them writhing in the mud.

Before the pale-haired demon could react, Lysis stepped up behind her battle-mate and dazed the demon over Hivair’s shoulder. The demon’s collapsed to the ground, shuddering.

“Bring them in, soldiers,” the Torment smirked lewdly, “we’ll be sharing this lot out tonight.” There was a roar of approval from the gathered Torments. He gestured to his subordinate to bring two of the demons with him and Lysis moved ahead of Hivair as the soldiers began to move off, beginning the long trek back to barracks, taking twitching demons out of the dirt.

Hivair glanced down at the pale-haired demon to see him staring back up at him, his twitching fingers reaching feebly for his sword. Hivair sheathed his blades with a slither, glancing up to see Lysis waiting for him with her eyebrows raised in a silent question. Hivair’s gaze fell back to the demon’s fingers scrabbling weakly at the dirt, the sword just slightly out of his reach. A band of Torments approached from the side, scanning the few demons left in the dirt with hungry eyes. The Torment at the front went straight for the demon at Hivair’s feet,

“Mister Hivair?” The Torment, a male taller and more physically imposing than Hivair himself was, hesitated at the sight of the pale, sharp-eyed male. Hivair waved his hand, inviting the Torment to take the demon, though he didn’t move to leave

“That’s the leader isn’t it?” One of the men said and, once they had confirmation Hivair hadn’t claimed the demon, they closed in. One came forward to nudge the demon with the toe of his boot and Hivair’s hand strayed to his belt as the demon convulsed. Hivair was drawing his weapon even as he saw slender fingers curl around the sword handle. The demon lurched suddenly to his feet and the Torments went for their weapons but Hivair intercepted the demon’s sloppy jab before they could draw and kicked the demon back down with a brutal boot to the stomach. He stepped forwards onto the demon’s wrist, ignoring the demon’s savage glare and hiss of pain as he lifted up the elegant silver sword from its owner’s slack fingers.

Hivair levelled a steady look at the Torments and the men backed off,

“You’re welcome to him, Mister Hivair.” His battle-mate backed him up and they shrugged, muttering vague apologies, retreating a few steps before they turned and headed off, glancing back over their shoulders. Lysis smirked at the deference they showed Hivair and dug out several pieces of iron cord from the pouch on her belt.

The demon, dark mud clinging to his fine hair, was watching Lysis blankly as she tied his booted ankles tightly with the cord but he looked up when Hivair approached. As well as the demon hid it behind all that anger, Hivair saw a shot of fear and he dropped his hand from his weapon, acting against his instincts. Hivair went down on one knee, ignoring how the demon flinched, and checked over Lysis’s bindings. Lysis smirked coldly,

“Don’t you trust me?” She scoffed. Hivair ignored her. The demon was limp in Hivair’s grip when he gripped the demon’s forearms and pulled him up, lifting the demon up across his shoulders with a grunt. The demon’s body was thick and hard with muscle and Hivair adjusted his shoulders awkwardly. With the demon’s bound wrists in his right hand and his left arm curled around the demon’s bare calves he glanced over at Lysis before heading off towards Torment home camp. He felt the demon’s growl as a vibration in his chest and then the demon’s bare flesh went cold, freezing cold. Hivair hissed out a gasp of pain, wincing as the demon’s agonising cold sunk into his skin.

Hivair swore silently. The darts were supposed to prevent the demons from exercising their power like this, but as long as the demon remained immobilised, he told himself he could bear it. Hivair felt the demon’s chest heaving against his shoulder as the demon forced his temperature down again and Hivair’s frown deepened as he resisted the urge to drop the demon and instead kept trudging forwards

He refused to look at Lysis, knowing that right now his expression, though others would have read it as hostile and closed, was open enough for her to read as pain.

Half-way to camp, climbing up an uneven pass, tension rippled through Hivair as the demon’s cold deepened and he felt the male’s breathing catch. The demon’s cold never numbed, it only burned, and the agony it caused was invisible, but none the less real, or excruciating.

The demon passed out as they arrived in camp and, almost as exhausted as the demon, Hivair released a heavy breath, his head falling forwards as he trudged the last few hundred metres to his tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your interest! Kudos and comments appreciated! 
> 
> The story continues after Hivair and his unconscious acquisition arrive at camp...


	2. A Summoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon finds out how much Hivair hates to be watched.

Lysis came with him to his tent to help secure the demon with two metal stakes driven into the ground. She straightened with a sigh,

“You’ll need to get him signed up to do something useful tomorrow,” she grinned, fixing her sharp gaze on him, “though I’m sure working will be out of the question for a few days.” Hivair didn’t respond and her lips settled into a grin, “Just try and find out if he’s good at anything so you can drop him off somewhere when you tire of him. Anywhere will take him.”

Hivair grunted noncommittally and her smile widened. She shrugged, holding up her hands in a placating gesture though her smirk was anything but,

“I’ll leave you two alone.” She said, heading outside.

Hivair ignored her, glancing over at the demon to see him looking back at Hivair before turning away. It unnerved him to be watched.

Stepping through to his sleeping area, crouching down under the low fabric, Hivair unlocked his case and lifted aside his pressed dress uniform to put the book he’d finished back onto the stack, taking out a different one. One that he hadn’t read in a while.

He felt the demon watching him again and resisted the urge to get up and pull the curtain across. It was safer to be able to keep an eye on the demon.

After twenty minutes of trying to focus on the novel, Hivair looked up from the pages and found the demon still scrutinising him. He set his brow and put his book down with forced restraint. Taking his spare undershirt from where it was folded on the side Hivair came over towards the demon.

The demon flinched away with a blink when Hivair knelt next to him and with calculated efficiency, Hivair’s hand shot out to grab a fistful of the demon’s long, loose hair, eliciting a startled whine. He held the demon’s head still as he put the grey fabric of the undershirt to the demon’s eyes. The demon panicked, trying to kick out at him but Hivair would be damned if he had to feel those eyes watching him, staring at him. The demon’s breathing caught and he whined, trying desperately to scrabble away from Hivair, but Hivair’s hold on his hair wouldn’t let him and Hivair managed to tie the blindfold tightly at the back of the demon’s skull.

The demon froze for a moment, his whole frame trembling and Hivair felt his stomach clench as he remembered with vivid clarity the utter helplessness of lying there in the dark like that and he flexed his fists to remind himself that he wasn’t there, provoking a cry of pain from the demon as Hivair’s hand tightened in his hair.

Hivair sighed, shivering as the demon’s temperature plummeted in fear and ice crackled its way across the fabric covering the demon’s eyes. The demon’s hair was silky, slippery and pleasantly cool in his hand and he gently released the demon’s head, sliding his fingers free with reluctance, though the cold surrounding the demon was nipping at his fingers.

The second Hivair let the demon go, the male brought his head to his shoulder and tried to dislodge the fabric with violent desperation. Hivair watched apathetically as the demon freed himself and shook the fabric free of his hair, again able to meet Hivair’s gaze, though he dropped his eyes to floor almost immediately.

His expression indifferent, Hivair retrieved the undershirt and stepped away silently, unpicking the knotted fabric, now crusted with frost. After a moment, he moved back through to his sleeping area to replace the shirt on the side and lock his case. Just as Hivair tucked the key for the chest away, the bell for dinner clanged roughly and he left the tent, the black tails of his felt coat trailing like shadows.

 

The demon heard the Torment returning long before the tent flap was thrown open. He’d lain still for several minutes, listening to the idle chatter of the Torment soldiers when he heard a disturbance in the rhythm, a change in the pattern as voices hushed and then swelled. A few seconds later and he felt rather than heard the hiss of the Torment’s coat moving and the uneven rhythm of the male’s boots, limping slightly off his left foot in the way the demon had noticed when he’d been carried back from the battle.

Hivair came into the tent and the demon’s eyes opened, locking onto the two plates the soldier was holding as the smell of hot food filled the tent. The demon’s mouth started watering even as he forced himself to look away. He’d been baiting the Torment before, by looking at him, knowing that the Torment hated being watched, but he couldn’t stand to be blindfolded again.

The demon started with a shudder when Hivair sat down in front of him, but he wouldn’t look at Hivair. After a few moments Hivair reached out to take the demon’s chin, gripping it as the demon went cold and tried to pull away. His eyes came up to glare at Hivair but the fight went out of him when he saw Hivair holding the spoonful of stew. Hivair let go of his chin and when the demon opened his mouth, he fed him.

The demon seemed to wince a little as he swallowed, the lukewarm stew was too warm for the demon, though he opened his mouth readily enough as soon as he’d swallowed.

Someone cleared their throat outside the tent,

"Sir? Coms want to talk to you.”

“Lysis too?” Hivair asked, feeding the demon another spoonful.

“No, just you, sir.” Hivair stood up with an irritated sigh, exiting the tent. He waited a moment before growling at the messenger,

“Get a move on then.” The Torment’s eyes widened and he glanced at Hivair’s blades before stepping forwards,

“Yes, sir.” He said with a slight tremble in his voice. The messenger took Hivair to the command tent and he stepped inside,

“What is it?” Hivair said, getting the attention of the five coms standing around the tent interior,

“That’s no way to behave.” Ikre started in an admonishing tone, like he was chastising a small child. Hivair paid him no notice and Mace only sighed,

“I’m sure you want to get back to that pretty demon of yours, Hivair,” Mace said, “but that’ll happen quicker if you pretend to respect us and answer our questions with minimum scowling.” Hivair waited with an indifferent expression on his face. Mace sighed and eased himself into a seat, rubbing his jaw, peppered with stubble. “I’m well aware of your capabilities, Hivair, but I’ve been fully informed about your past and I’ve seen for myself what it does to you on occasion.” Hivair’s jaw twitched but he said nothing, "We can spare the demon, alright? Do what you want with it but take your… _frustration_ out on it, not on any of my men." Hivair was silent, "Do you understand?" Mace growled. Hivair scowled back,

"I hear you." He said, low and hard. Mace matched his tone and his scowl,

"Then you're dismissed." Hivaid left, gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it continues...
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hivair wakes and is reminded that he no longer has the tent to himself.

Hivair came awake suddenly. He heard a strange keening noise from the other side of the curtain and froze, hand sliding to lift his dagger from its holster at his bare thigh. Silently, he slipped from under the thin sheets, his back damp with sweat and the cold air raising goose bumps. He took his torch from the side and clamped it between his teeth though he didn’t turn it on.

In a crouch, he stepped closer to the curtain and shivered, watching his breath hiss out through his teeth and condense in the air. It was unnaturally cold and Hivair flexed his fingers around the dagger handle apprehensively.

He moved the curtain aside carefully and moved out, scanning the near complete darkness and listening hard. The keening noise was coming from where Lysis had tied down the demon and, keeping his distance, Hivair took the torch from his mouth and, shading the end with his hand, turned it on. A sliver of light came through the gap between his fingers and Hivair moved it systematically away from him, slowly up towards where he remembered the demon to be. He heard a sharp intake of breath and, without meaning to, his hand moved, the torch’s full beam illuminating the demon’s face, the male’s two red eyes staring back at him. A jolt went through Hivair and his dagger felt slick in his hand as he adjusted his grip and advanced slowly, the torchlight following his focus as he visually checked the demon’s bindings before returning to the demon’s pale face, his whitish-violet hair spilling out across his shoulders and behind him. The demon said nothing, watching Hivair.

In the few moments that Hivair spent looking at the demon, the icy temperature eased slightly with the tension holding the demon rigid lessening. In the same way in which Hivair’s torch had crawled over the demon, the demon ran his eyes over Hivair and it made the man’s skin itch. He concentrated on the feeling of his shirt sticking to his back to remind himself that the demon could read nothing from him by looking other than that Hivair had the hard stomach and rough face of a soldier. Like Hivair, the demon’s gaze eventually came up to settle on Hivair’s face and the steady challenge in those eyes made Hivair uneasy despite the fact that the other male was physically unable to harm him. At least for the time being.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's unlikely that I'll continue this one, but if you have any inspirational prompts or ideas for where this could go then I'll certainly think on it. Kudos and comments appreciated!


End file.
